


Lament Dreams

by sam_midwinter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Mourning, Sappy, Sappy as hell, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam_midwinter/pseuds/sam_midwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke dreams of death, Anders is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lament Dreams

It was the way the little rocks bounced on the ground that made Hawke look up. The way the tremors worked its way up from his feet up to his calves and how his chest drummed, matching the pace of the heavy thuds in the distance.

The ogre had been large enough to appear ahead of him and still run five more steps before Hawke had seen the entire monster. His breath caught him in his throat, and suddenly he was aware of every single ache he had in his body from the fighting quickly followed by a sudden realisation of dread that there was no way he could take on this enemy head on.

The ogre charged, and Hawke did the only thing that came straight to mind. He threw himself to the side, hitting the hard rock and rolling further; momentarily not being able to breathe from the dust of the gravel and feeling the rocks scrape and bruise his skin, more to add to the list of injuries of the day.

Leandra screamed and Hawke looked up, just to see the Ogre grab Carver. It raised Carver high, then brought him back down to the ground, smashing him against it hard enough so Hawke could feel and hear how Carver’s bones got crushed.

-              -

It was the sudden flay of an arm in the corner of Ander’s sight that caught his attention. He stopped writing the word on the parchment and looked over his shoulder to the darker end of the room where Hawke was in the bed. He had sat up and was now looking around in the room, still drunk on sleep and almost confused about his surroundings, but was calm otherwise.

Anders watched Hawke for a few seconds, watched how he familiarized himself again with the room, then covered his eyes with his hand and sighed heavily. Anders smiled weakly and put the feather down, turning in the chair to face Hawke properly. “Another dream?”

Hawke nodded and lowered the hand from his eyes, looking exhausted and glanced over to the fire. “Carver tonight.” Hawke admitted on a low tone. Anders nodded, wanting to say that it had been a while since Hawke last had dreamt of Carver, but remained quiet instead. Hawke didn’t need to be reminded of that, he dreamt of the people he had lost to much lately anyway, especially those he had seen.

Ever since they had found Leandra, Hawke hadn’t been himself, and no one really blamed him for that. But it had just been a weird change, someone always willing to talk and to joke was suddenly so quiet. The first three weeks after Leandra, the house had been spookily quiet and Hawke had barely said a word, when he did he complained about the silence.

Then, gradually he had begun talking more and joking more when they were out together or with Varric, and seemed to be getting better. Slowly working through his mourning Anders supposed, just like he had done with Karl. But the second they stepped back in the house Hawke grew quiet again. He grew quiet and dreamt of how the ogre crushed Carver, he dreamt of how Bethany got the blight and was taken away by the wardens, he dreamt of how his patched up mother wandered towards him.

Bethany’s dreams were almost like a queue, whenever he got a letter of his sister, Anders could count in it that that very same evening Hawke would dream of his sister getting ill.

Yet no matter which family member Hawke dreamt of, Anders was always at loss of what to say. He had never known Carver, he had known Bethany to a certain extent and had liked her company, he had known Leandra even more, having lived with her and Hawke for a good few months before any of it had happened, but it still left him powerless.

So most of the time he just sat by Hawke in silence, hoping that his presence was enough.

Hawke laid back down on the bed, head against the pillow and rolled onto his side, facing Anders with his back. Anders looked to the desk, the attempts of the manifesto he had tried to write and realized he wasn’t the slightest bit happy with it. So he extinguished the candle and left the desk. It was halfway through the night anyway and he had to go back to the clinic in the morning. Some sleep would be good to have.

Anders carefully crawled on the bed behind Hawke, laying down next to him and placed one arm over him, the other he managed to put under Hawke’s neck so he could hold him properly. Hawke moved along with any shifts he had to make and took one of Anders hands in his own, lacing their fingers together.

Anders pressed his temple against Hawke’s shoulder, pressing a light kiss against Hawke’s skin and closed his eyes, feeling himself drift of already. He hadn’t realized how tired he had been right up until now.

They listened to the crackling of the dying fire, neither of them moving and slowly letting their breathing’s match until Hawke broke the silence. “Anders?”

“Mm?” Anders hummed in reply, feeling how Hawke squeezed his hand.

“I love you.” Hawke’s voice was soft, and the words made Anders smile a bit. So he pressed another kiss to his skin again and squeezed Hawke’s hand back.

“I love you too.” Anders whispered back.

He couldn’t help Hawke with Carver, he had done what he could with Bethany and taken her to the wardens, Leandra had been beyond his help. But he hoped that he could just be here for Hawke, and that it would be enough.


End file.
